


Four Coffee Morning

by DevilDoll



Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-28
Updated: 2012-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-30 05:52:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevilDoll/pseuds/DevilDoll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Clay and Aisha disappear into the room on the end, and then there's a short squabble over who'll take the room next to them and who gets the room three doors over."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Coffee Morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kisahawklin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisahawklin/gifts).



> For kisahawklin, who has been the best kind of enabler for me in this fandom. <3 <3 This takes place during the movie, but don't ask me exactly when. :)

The motel's a little seedy, but actually not too bad for a place where you don't need any kind of identification to get a room, and they have enough vacancies. Three rooms, each with two double beds, and the place is fairly clean, too. There's even a nice strong wifi signal from a business across the street, which Jensen hacks into without even really trying, still sitting in the van out in the parking lot while Clay pays for the rooms.

It's late and they're all tired, bellies full of greasy diner food and cheap beer. Clay and Aisha disappear into the room on the end, and then there's a short squabble over who'll take the room next to them and who gets the room three doors over. Unsurprisingly, Jensen ends up next to Clay, because he loses to Pooch at Rock Paper Scissors. He's pretty sure Pooch cheats, though how you cheat at Rock Paper Scissors is something Jensen has yet to figure out, no matter how much time he spends on Google. He knows he doesn't have a tell—throws out false ones now and then just to see if it makes any difference, and it never does—but he still ends up on the losing end more often than not. They really need to come up with a different way to sort this kind of shit out.

If Jensen is next to Clay, that means Cougar is next to Clay, because there's never even a question anymore about who rooms with who, not since the time Roque threatened to cram Jensen's computer up his ass if he didn't stop typing and go to sleep ASAP. Pooch and Roque strut off, acting like it's some kind of personal goddamn victory that netted them the other room. Jensen hopes they end up next to a hooker or a meth dealer, anything that'll make being Clay's neighbor for the night seem like a downright bargain.

Cougar always gets the bathroom first, though Jensen isn't sure why this is, he just rolls with it. He doesn't have to wait long, because just like everything else, Cougar's efficient and quick about brushing his teeth. By the time Jensen's done the same, Cougar's already sacked out in the far bed, back to Jensen, probably asleep already. Jensen doesn't have to check to know there's a gun under Cougar's pillow. 

He gets out his computer and helps himself to the stolen wifi, takes his usual circuitous, untraceable route out onto the internet. There isn't much actual work for him to do, just cleaning up a few loose ends, so once he gets that taken care of he sees what's going on with Anonymous, which is disappointingly little. He's kind of in the mood for some recreational cyber disobedience. 

The thumping and moaning from Clay's room starts about that time, so Jensen digs out his earbuds and plugs them in, clicks around until he finds a playlist he hasn't burned out on yet. It doesn't totally drown out the noise from next door, but it helps. It's been a while since Jensen got any, and he feels the first stirrings of interest in his lap, warm beneath his computer, but ignores it. He checks his Petunias Tumblr, and ESPN.com, cleans out the backlog on his feed reader, and then finally, in desperation, clicks over to Fark. Nothing interesting is happening anywhere. 

It's probably just as well, because by then he's bleary-eyed and tired—and the room next door is now blessedly silent—so he puts away the headphones and shuts down. Without the earbuds in, he can hear Cougar breathing, and realizes he isn't asleep, which is unusual. He's used to sleeping anywhere, like the rest of them, and he's certainly more than used to falling asleep in the glow of Jensen's computer, to the sound of his keyboard clicking. 

Jensen carefully sets his glasses on the table, shoves his laptop under his pillow, and rolls over onto his stomach. He's just about to drift off when Clay and Aisha start up again. Twice in one night--not bad for an old guy. It goes on for a while, getting increasingly louder, and Jensen pulls the spare pillow over his head, but it doesn't help. Without the muting effect of the music, he realizes just how thin the walls are. He can hear every creak and bump of the bed, every whimper and groan. Aisha's voice is particularly clear, Clay's just a deep rumble, thank God. It's like listening to the audio track of a porno. Jensen can't help it, he's fully hard within minutes, trying not to push his hips into the mattress.

He's contemplating a quick trip to the bathroom when off to his left he hears Cougar move, swearing in a mixture of English and Spanish. Jensen pushes the pillow off his head and sees Cougar's rolled onto his back, the thin white motel sheet covering only his lower body. He's got one arm over his eyes. Even in the dim light, even through the sheet, even without his glasses, Jensen can see that Cougar's hard.

Fuck it. Jensen rolls to his feet and takes the two steps that get him to the other bed, whips the sheet away. Cougar is completely naked. He doesn't look surprised, but he rarely does, and it's not like they haven't done this before. Jensen shoves his own boxer shorts down and leaves them on the floor as he climbs astride, settling on Cougar's thighs. 

On the other side of the wall, Aisha's high-pitched little pants turn into words, telling Clay she's about to come; the thumping speeds up. Jensen grins down at Cougar, who grabs hold of Jensen's thighs and rolls his hips, the nearest thing Jensen's going to get to a yes.

Jensen leans down, braces himself with one hand next to Cougar's ear, licks the other and gets it around them both. Cougar sucks in a breath at the first stroke, and Jensen bites his own lip to keep from moaning. He doesn't waste any time, just works them both in a quick, smooth rhythm that's familiar and effective, a bit of common ground wordlessly agreed upon over the course of other nights like this. When Cougar's hands move to Jensen's hips, when his fingers clench in time with Jensen's strokes, he tightens his fist a little, moves his arm faster. He knows the cues.

Jensen comes first, all over himself and Cougar, and it makes his grip even hotter, slipperier, and it only takes a few more strokes before Cougar follows, murmuring softly in Spanish as he jerks in Jensen's hand, words Jensen always pretends not to hear.

Jensen doesn't have the strength to do more than pant into Cougar's shoulder for a minute or two, and as long as Cougar's hands are still on him, thumbs gently pressing his hipbones, he knows it's okay. As soon as Cougar lets go, Jensen slides off, flops onto his back on the bed.

They wipe themselves off with Jensen's underwear, not doing a very good job of it, but enough to say they tried. There's nothing but silence from Clay's room now. 

Cougar pulls the sheet back up and rolls over, away from Jensen, who immediately takes the opportunity to spoon, slotting in behind him as close as he can get, slinging one arm loosely around his waist. Cougar huffs and elbows him, and Jensen knows exactly what that means, but he ignores it.

"Back in your own bed, man," Cougar says, but there's no heat in it, and he sounds like he's half asleep.

"Fuck you, I'm staying," Jensen says, and tries to snug in a little closer, though that's hardly possible. "I need my cuddles." This is the best part. Sex is easy enough to find, even when you're a wanted man on the run (maybe especially when), but finding someone who'll let you cuddle with them while you sleep is a much more difficult prospect. Cougar's been Jensen's default cuddle target for years. 

Maybe someday, Cougar'll just let him do it, and not put up some bullshit token protest. But even if that never happens, Jensen's not gonna stop, because if there's any one of them who needs cuddles more than Jensen, it's Cougar.

~*~

He wakes up alone. Cougar's in the other bed—the one that was originally Jensen's--sprawled on his stomach. Jensen's laptop is on the table between the beds, power cord carefully curled on top of it. Morning sex is never an option, but that's fine, Jensen can coast on this for days. He already feels more human, less like he's running on empty.

He dozes for a bit, because there are bathroom rules to follow, and eventually he hears Cougar get up and start the shower. He comes out of the bathroom fully dressed, even his hat in place, and his face betrays nothing, as usual. He turns on the TV and stands in front of it, flipping through the morning news reports, and doesn't even give Jensen a glance when he finally gets out of bed and shuffles, naked and yawning, toward the shower.

Cougar's gone when Jensen comes out of the bathroom with one rough motel towel around his hips, the other wrapped around his head in a turban. His bag's still on the floor, and when Jensen checks under the bed the guns are still there, so that means coffee is on the way. He gets dressed, spends a few minutes at the mirror getting his hair right, and then grabs his laptop and sits down at the cheap desk. 

Cougar is back a few minutes later with four paper cups of coffee and a newspaper. He sets two of the coffees down next to Jensen, who is already absorbed in his computer--Tilda Swinton was spotted at Cannes, and the Fug Girls are all over that shit.

"Thanks," Jensen says, not looking up, because it's safe to say it right now; it could be for the coffee, it could be for anything.

Cougar grabs the back of Jensen's neck, gives him a gentle shake, and it's probably the closest thing to a hug Jensen's ever gotten out of him, and during daylight hours, too. He's smart enough to keep his eyes on the screen, act like it doesn't mean anything.

Cougar sits down on one of the beds and kicks his feet up, opens the paper with a snap. Neither of them says a word. That's how they are half an hour later when Roque taps on the door—three slow, two quick—and they're up and out, in the van, on the way to the rendezvous point. 

Clay and Roque are arguing again, Aisha's pissed because she knows they don't really trust her, and Pooch keeps asking everyone to please shut the fuck up so he can drive the damn van. Cougar and Jensen are in the very back sorting through their gear, not touching, not talking, but they don't need to. They've never needed to.

It's kind of fucked up, Jensen thinks, how happy he feels. 

**The End**

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Four Coffee Morning [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/349699) by [kisahawklin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisahawklin/pseuds/kisahawklin)




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